Life is Not Fair
by GateGremlyn
Summary: A walk in the swamp: mud, frogs, and philosophy with John and Rodney.


**Title: Life Is Not Fair**  
**Rating: G**  
**Word Count: about 1500**  
**Pairing and/or Characters: Rodney and John**  
**Warning/spoilers: none**  
**Synopsis: mud, frogs, and philosophy**  
**Disclaimer: not mine, wish they were.**

"Can we leave?"

"Leave?"

"Leave. Run away. Go home--"

"No." John kept walking.

"No?" Rodney stopped dead in his tracks. "No? That's it, just no?"

"Yes, just no."

Rodney raced to catch up and kept pace for a few steps before he stopped again. "Why?"

"Why?"

"Why," Rodney insisted. "Why can't we leave?"

John sighed. "Why do you want to, Rodney? Other than the fact you're bored and tired and crabby—All of which, need I remind you, are normal."

McKay stood his ground, at least as much as he could stand his ground in the swampy spot of grassland on which he stood. Sheppard, after a few more steps, stopped as well. This time the sigh reached all the way down to his slightly damp toes. "Okay, Rodney. Spill." He turned in time to see Rodney cross his arms.

"There are toads."

John raised an eyebrow. "Toads?"

"Toads."

John waited. "And?"

"And, nothing. There are toads. It's not fair that I'm stuck here with you and bunch of ugly toads while everybody else is back at the jumper."

"Were you planning to kiss one?" John wanted to know.

"What!" Rodney unfolded his arms. "No! Why would I want to kiss--"

"You kiss a toad and it turns in to a prince—or in your case, a princess."

"You don't kiss toads," Rodney corrected, "you kiss frogs."

"And so are these." With that, John turned and started walking again.

"What?" Rodney jogged until the two of them were again side by side. "What?"

"These aren't toads, they're frogs," John answered. "And no I don't."

"They are? You don't?" Rodney sputtered. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that in marshland like this, we're not seeing toads, we're seeing frogs. Frogs are adapted to water; toads live on dry land." John picked up his feet carefully as the ground became more spongy. Looking down, he said, "And no, I don't."

"Don't step there!" Rodney pulled him back from a patch of grass. "I think we're going to have to turn around. The ground here's too saturated to be safe. We could get sucked into a bog."

"I think you're right," John said. He stepped away carefully, hearing the squish as he pulled his feet out of the water. "So much for scientific exploration and discovery. Let's head back."

They turned and followed their trail as nearly as possible. For a few minutes, they walked slowly and silently, looking down at each step.

"Why is it unfair that you're stuck with me and a bunch of ugly frogs?" John asked after they were back on slightly drier ground.

Still finding his way, Rodney said, "Do you know that a peat bog like this will preserve a body so perfectly that a thousand years from now, someone could unearth the body and still see the skin intact? It'll be like leather."

"Thank you, Rodney. I feel so much better now." John slowed down, placing his feet even more carefully. The frogs croaked ominously beside him, inviting him to join them. "But you didn't answer my question."

"What is it you don't do?" Rodney asked with a question of his own as they finally made it to a patch of dryer land. "Back there you said, 'No, I don't.' Don't what?"

"I don't kiss frogs—or toads for that matter."

"What?"

"I don't kiss frogs."

"Why would you kiss a frog?"

"I just said I don't."

Rodney spread his fingers wide and pressed the heels of his hands into his forehead. "If I have to spend one more mission with you and your asinine logic.... That's what's not fair. I would have thought that by now there would be some justice in the world and I'd be in the jumper where it's safe and warm--"

"And dry," John added.

"--and dry," Rodney agreed.

"Life isn't fair," John said placidly.

"Oh, thank you, Einstein. Did they teach you that at the military school?"

"Yep. Almost the first day of class: Life is not fair."

"Very nice," Rodney growled. "I feel so much better now. I'm out in the middle of nowhere with wet feet and a second-rate philosopher." He stepped in a particularly soft piece of ground and sank in up to his knees. "Whoa!"

"Hang on, I've got you." John reached out to grab an arm and pulled. Nothing happened.

"I'm sinking into the bog," Rodney yelled.

"But you'll be all nice and leathery, right?"

"Sheppard get me out of here before the frogs and I are permanently acquainted."

"Well, you will be if you don't shut up. Now on three, I'm gong to pull hard. You help all you can—try not to struggle." He grabbed Rodney under the shoulders this time and tried again. With a squelch and an alarmed chorus of frogs, he pulled Rodney free, and they both tumbled backwards onto the grass. For a couple of minutes they sat on the ground panting.

John got to his feet and put out a hand to Rodney. "You okay?" He asked with a tug. "You didn't step on a frog or anything, did you?"

"Very funny." Rodney stood, and with an hand on John's shoulder, balanced so that he could shake his water-laden, sludge-covered boots--which did nothing but spatter mud on both of them. "Just great. Now I'm wet as well. Anything to say about that Mr. Philosopher?"

"If justice be thy plea, consider this, that in the course of justice, none of us should see salvation." John patted Rodney on the arm and continued on his way. "Watch the next couple of steps. It looks like we went a little sideways on the way back and the ground here's pretty unstable."

"What did you say?" Rodney asked, catching up and putting his waterlogged boots where John had already stepped.

"I said the ground's a little unstable--"

"No, before that."

"Oh, I said, 'If justice be thy plea, consider this, that in the course of justice, none of use should see salvation.'" he grabbed Rodney by the arm again and pushed him sideways. "Wet spot."

Rodney moved without question. "That's what I thought you said."

"What? You didn't think I knew any Shakespeare? Mr. Philosopher, here, remember. 'The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath.'"

John bit his lip, as Rodney's jaw dropped. He took a minute to update the rest of the team and Doctor Beckett. "We can't get through this way so we're heading back to the jumper," he said into the radio. "What did you guys find?"

"We've got some amazing specimens, Colonel Sheppard," Beckett said excitedly. "Several plant species and some amphibians. These creatures look like frogs back on Earth. We've gathered several to take back with us for study."

"Well, don't let Sheppard kiss one," Rodney yelled into the mic, finally recovering his composure. "He's worried it'll turn into a prince—or worse yet, a princess."

There was silence on the other end of the radio.

"Doc?" Sheppard said. "You still there?"

"Did he touch one, colonel? Did you touch one, Rodney?" Beckett answered. "We've got enough samples that we should be able to check for hallucinogens in the skill oils. Or did you get touched by the tongue? Did it lick you? If it did, we'll have to do blood tests as soon as we get back."

"I did not lick a frog," Rodney sputtered.

"No, and he didn't kiss one either, but he almost went swimming with one," John added. "We'll be back to the jumper within the hour and you can check him out."

"Understood, colonel. If you need medical attention before then, let me know," Beckett offered. "I'm sure we can set up a quarantine station if we need to so we don't take some nasty bug back to Atlantis."

John assured Beckett that they were fine and signed off. He and Rodney continued in silence for a few minutes, and the ground got firmer under their feet. "What?" John finally asked.

"Thanks," Rodney said. "You know, for the rescue."

"You're welcome."

They walked a few more yards before John asked again. "Spill, Rodney. We left the frogs behind a half a mile ago. What's wrong."

Rodney stepped with more force that necessary in a little puddle in their way. "Now Carson thinks I'm crazy."

"There is no justice in the world, Rodney. Like I said, life is not fair. You, me, and Mr. Shakespeare can all attest to that fact."


End file.
